Legacy
by windedeagle
Summary: We all know what happens to Daine and Numair - but what about their children, Sarra and Rikash? Will the people of Tortall ever except Sarra and her amazing powers? And will Rikash be a spitting image of the young Numair? Read to find out!
1. Chapter 1

_Well, I'm back. I has been 2 years since I have touched this kind of fanfiction, and hopefully I can finished. I know I have great fan support, and know that y'all will keep me going. Please review. Oh, and if you haven't read any of my other stuff:_ _.net/s/3094049/1/MidWinter….net/s/3116805/1/On_Progress…….net/s/3158657/1/Letters&.net/s/3191662/1/Abridged_Fantasies…...net/s/3175358/1/Swear(:_

Legacy

Part 1 – Sarralyn

Sarralyn was sitting in the hayloft, her fingers stroking the back of a kitten. It purred loudly, and she smiled and pulled it close to her face. "I don't want him to leave," she whispered, and a few tears fell from her eyes.

"Sarra?" a boy's voice called up the wooden stairs.

"Go away!"

But the boy was persistent – she heard his footsteps on the wooden stairs and she got ready to face his reasoning. She saw his face slowly rising over the wooden floor, his blond hair short, his green eyes boring into her.

Colton Larse was staring at her, his twelve-year-old face looking handsome beyond his years. "Sarra, I'll be back soon, I promise."

She drew her legs in, and sniffled. Colton sighed, and leaning over the rail, took the back of her curly head in his head brought her face close to his. Then he kissed her lips quickly, with the nervousness that comes with a first kiss, and pulled away. "I promise to write everyday," he whispered, and fled down the stairs.

L7L7L7L7L7L7L7

Sarra was sitting in her bedroom, six years later. She was cross-legged in front of the wall length mirror that sat to the left of her door, staring at herself. Tears welled in her eyes.

She only wanted love; that was all. So why did she have to be rejected so, people whispering as she walked by, staring, running. She wished she had never been born into this strange family. She didn't want to be Daine Salmalin's daughter. She didn't want any of this.

Sarra stared at her reflection. She knew that she was considered beautiful – she had heard the Court whispers, seen the boy's eyes following her. She had big, black curls that fell on thin shoulders, stood at nine inches over five feet, and a long, fine face that had been the subject of many boy's comments over the years.

But then there were her eyes. She hated them, because they were the first thing that people saw that secluded her, let them know she was different, strange. Her left eye was blue, and her right was brown.

This, her father had explained, wasn't a phenomenon – simply it was the fact that she had different amounts of melanin in each eye, an alteration in the gene that controls eye color. But the fact that her eyes changed tones with her moods – well, that was one of the few things her father had difficulty explaining.

After people noticed her eyes, they noticed the other things about her.

Sarralyn had inherited her mother's full Widemage powers. She could speak to, heal, and shift to any animal she wished. But she did have something that her mother lacked – she was a shape shifter as well. She could reform her body into any person she wanted – yes, even a male. (She really didn't like it, though, so she only did it when absolutely necessary.)

This is what made people hesitant towards her. She had no friends of her own age, since they were all afraid of her. She had no love interests, even though she was beautiful. She wasn't normal.

"Sarra?" she heard her father call. She sighed, and wiped the tears away from her pink cheeks. There was a knock on her door as she stood. "Sarra, your brother is about to come up. Can you make some tea for us?"

"Sure," she said clearly, and went to her wardrobe to change out of her nightshirt. She heard her father shut the door, and let out a sigh of relief. Sarra pulled out a pair of black breeches, which fit over her curving hips tightly, and a shirt in her favorite red. She tied her hair back with a red ribbon, and went back to stare at her self in the mirror, watching her eyes turn from dark blue and brown to a slightly lighter hue.

She opened her door, which lead to the common room of her family's rented rooms at the palace. She put a kettle of tea on the fire, and opened all the curtains, watching the snow fall slowly into place on the hills and town below. Thousands of books surrounded her, and she sat on the couch and watched the way the mid winter sun shone off the dozens of trinkets her father had given her mother over the years.

The main door opened at the same time the kettle sang. She went to lift it off the fire, listening to her families' voices fill the air.

"Sarra," she heard her mother say. "Say hello to you brother – he's missed you."

Sarra sighed, and turned to Rikash, then gasped. He stood almost a foot taller than when she had last seen him in the early summer, and now towered over her.

"Hullo, big sister," he said with a smile. His voice was deeper too, and his face was angular and tan, with their father's nose and mother's grey blue eyes. His mop of tight black curls sprung from his head, bouncing when he moved. "Be a dear and get me some tea, alright?" He crashed into an armchair. "I'm weary from my travels."

"Get your own tea," Sarra mumbled angrily.

"Sarra," he mother warned. She was shorter than Sarra, and her curly brown hair was in a mane around her round face.

"Ma! He's going to make me his Mid-Winter slave, I know it!"

"Sarra, just get him some tea."

"NO!" she shouted, her temper flaring, her body growing very warm, and one of the bookcases, which lined the walls, rocked with the force of an earthquake. They all watched it, in shocked silence, as it fell to the ground, sending books everywhere.

Her mother's eyes were on her father, yearning for an answer. Both Numair and Rikash were staring at her.

"Who did that?" Daine asked, her voice almost shaking. Numair came over Sarra, stepping over his books, and put his massive hands on either side of her head, his fingers pressing gently on her throbbing temple. Suddenly, she was looking in herself, at her magic, but it was different. Very different.

Her father pulled away, and withheld her mother with a slightly hesitant glance. "I was afraid of this," he said.

"Afraid of what?"

He sighed, moving a few books from the couch, and sitting. "You see, Daine, I have always suspected that Sarra was Gifted. That would be the only reasonable explanation to her shifting – because wild magic, or so _I_ think, is simply linked to animals. But she has never shown any Gifted qualities, nor has she ever possessed any Gift-like magic."

"_What_?" Sarra breathed.

Numair sighed, and looked up at Sarra. "You're Gifted, and because of your wild magic, and the fact that you have let it go uncultivated so long, it's . . . out of hand."

"Out of hand?" Sarra and Daine whispered at the same time.

"Very much so. It's amazing – it's almost like it has come on like a sudden cold. I have never seen anything like it – but, of course, I have never seen anything like you, my little Wildmage." He chuckled.

"Numair, this is no laughing matter!" Daine said loudly. "What is going to happen to Sarra?"

Numair sighed, and smoothed back his graying horse tail. "I will have to put up several blocks in her mind, much like I did with you, magelet. Then I think Sarra should join Rikash at the University so she can – "

"NOOOOOO!" Rikash yelled, pushing away from the back of the chair. "Da, no! No! She will ruin my life!"

"Rikash, your sister needs mental discipline. Besides, it will be good for Sarralyn to met a few new people her own age."

Sarra's mind turned on the prospect of people her own age – particularly, one person. Colton. She hadn't seen him in four years, since he had last come home from the university to visit. He had written to her only twice, letters that had been opened and reopened so many times they were falling apart at the seams. Colton, the only boy who had ever thought her normal. Dear, sweet Colton.

"I want to go," Sarra said defiantly.

"NOOO!" Rikash yelled again.

Numair smiled, and rose. "I'll go see what I can work out, then." He leaned down to kiss her forehead on the way out, and whispered, "I knew you always had it." Then he shut the door.

Rikash put his head in his hands. "My life is over," he whispered. Daine hurried from the room and out the door, after her husband.

"Little brother," Sarra said affectionately, "why is your life over?"

"Because," he said in a small voice, sitting up, "you're going to ruin it. I hate you, Sarra."

Sarra beamed.

L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7

Daine ran down the hall, reaching out to grab the back of Numair's shirt to stop him. The hall was decorated with portraits of fine ladies, which hung in expensive frames. Daine and Numair were the first common born people to ever live on this hall, which they moved to soon after Rikash was born. Of course, the people on this hall didn't really like the Salmalins – especially not Sarra or Rikash, whose powers were unknown when they were little. But, eventually, the neighbors had grown used to them, and even nodded their heads or said "Good morning" as they passed by.

"Numair," she said, stepping in front of him and putting her hands out to stop him. "This . . . you had to have known."

He sighed. "Daine, I offered to test her a hundred times for the Gift, but you wouldn't let me."

"That's because she's never had it!"

"Shhh," Numair whispered, and took her face in his big hands. "It's only been – hiding. It isn't extremely powerful, but I don't know how her wild magic will react. That's why I think it's best for her to go to the university – not for long, maybe as little as a year – "

"A year?" Daine squeaked. Numair sighed.

"Daine, think of Sarralyn's best interests here. All she does is work in the stables and attend Court functions. It will be good for her to socialize with people her age – especially Gifted people, who might understand her a little better."

"But I don't want her to leave," Daine whispered.

Numair sighed again, and took her arm, pushing her to walk. "But won't it be nice," he whispered in her ear, "to have the rooms to ourselves again?"

She smiled, and laughed a little. "You're right," she said, and squeezed his hand.

L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7

Rikash couldn't remember the last time he had attended a Court function – oh wait, he was twelve, and a little boy. Now he was fifteen – a man – and the way the girls looked at him was completely different.

Rikash knew he was good looking. His soft hair, his big, sharp blue eyes, his height – not to mention his family, and his magic – would win him any heart.

Rikash was destined to be the next Numair Salmalin, and the entire Court knew it. He was just as powerful, and just as brilliant. In fact, he was so smart, he was already on Colton's robe level, and was three years his junior.

Of course, there was no black robe at the Tortallian University – the program wasn't that advanced. In a few years he would make his way to Carthak, and follow in his father's footsteps to become the next black robe of Tortall.

So to say Rikash was arrogant wasn't right – he was just confident of his future.

"Hullo," he said to a girl who had been walking by. She looked a little older than him, her dark hair long and gleaming down her back. But that wasn't what caught his eye – her breasts were situated to sit high on her chest, so much so that they looked as if they might fall out at any minute.

The Court whirled by in an assortment of festive colors – greens, reds, and golds. There were wreaths hung from every wall, and a giant fir tree was lit up with globes of magic and decorated with red berries.

"Hullo," she said back, swinging her hips.

"That is a lovely color on you, I must say. Do you come to these dances often?"

She smiled. "Of course I do, Master Rikash."

He smiled. "Now, that isn't fair. If you know my name, I need to know yours."

She smiled, her eyes gleaming. "You have been gone a long time, haven't you?"

"Too long," he said gravely. She laughed.

"Kiya."

He took her hand and kissed it. "My dear Lady Kiya, do you not find this party frightfully boring?"

She smiled, and sighed dramatically. "Dreadfully so."

"Would you like to get some air, then?"

L7L7L7L7L7L7L7

Sarra hated Court dances. She hated the way all the young men would stare at her, whispering at her, smiling like she was some kind of trophy cow that they weren't allowed to have. She stood in the corner, miserable.

Her father appeared from out of nowhere at her side, and asked her how she was doing.

"Fine," she said, folding her arms.

He sighed, watching the young men that had been staring at Sarra flee. "It will be better at school, sweetling. I promise."

She sighed, and stared at her feet. "Do you know where Colton is? He's supposed to come home for Mid-Winter."

"He's a very busy young man, Sarra. And very talented. He is probably working on his studies. He has a lot of work to do if he is going to graduate before Rikash." Numair chuckled.

"Well, that's because Rikash is so smart he doesn't even have to study – which makes him lazy. It will catch up with him, eventually."

Numair smiled down at his daughter, and kissed the top of her head. "You are as stubborn as your mother."

L7L7L7L7L7L7L7L7

Rikash had taken Kiya down a flight of stairs to an empty library, where he sat her on the long wooden table and kissed her. She took his hands and pushed them against her breasts, and he became dizzy with feelings inside him. He kissed her harder, held her closer, and his fingers played with the back of her corset.

Then the door opened. Kiya heard it first, and pulled away, pulling her dress up over her exposed chest.

"Kiya!" a male voice called. "I know you're in here!"

Kiya's mouth opened, and she looked at Rikash with panic in her eyes.

"Run," she whispered.

"Why?"

"Just run."

Rikash ran behind the nearest bookcase, where he could see between the empty shelves. A man approached, his fat stomach spilling over his waistline, his embodied tunic a bit too tight.

"Why are you down here?"

"I . . . lost my way, after stepping out for air."

He grabbed her hand and dragged pulled her off the table. "I should have never married such a stupid girl," he said angrily. Rikash held in a gasp.

They were married? This old, fat lord and this beautiful young girl? He felt a pang in his heart as she was pulled away. She turned around to wave goodbye to him.

"Happy Mid-Winter," he whispered to her, and blew her a kiss that she didn't see.

_It will be much more interesting next chapter, when Sarra meets up with her long lost Colton – who seems to have changed a bit – and Rikash learns that he has quite a way with the girl (just like his daddy). _


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks later, Sarra rode her horse through the two huge iron gates, one baring a T and the other baring a U. She was flanked by her father, who was overjoyed at the occasion and had rambled the whole trip about his university days, and her brother, who was now resting one elbow on this horses' neck, with his face in his hand and his eyes closed.

The gates gave way to a long path, which was lined on each side with huge oak trees. On either sides of the path there was clipped green grass, charmed to stay short, which the students lounged on, and two round pens with horses. In front of them was the university, a huge, stone building, with towers on each side, and wings that stretched on forever.

Sarra could feel the anticipation growing in her stomach, and she eagerly searched the students that passed them.

"Colton's not down here," Rikash said with a yawn. She turned her head and narrowed her eyes at her brother, who sat up and yawned again. "He has class this time of day."

"I'm not looking for Colton," she said fiercely, and the limb of an overhead tree shook.

"Sarralyn," Numair scolded. "I thought I told you to watch your temper until you learn to control your Gift."

She sighed, and cut Rikash another look, only to see him laughing and shaking his curly head.

They took their horses to the stables, and her horse, Eagle, head butted her as they were leaving.

When will you be back? he asked, rubbing on her shirt.

"Soon," she said, aloud, and the stable hands stared at her. She bit her lip. Rikash laughed at her, and she reached out to pull the hairs at the nape of his neck until he cried, "Da! Make her stop!"

Numair took Sarra's hand and squeezed it hard. "No more of that, Sarralyn, or I'll be more than happy to take you back home where I can be your teacher."

Sarra made a face, but stopped. Rikash crossed his arms smugly and marched ahead, beside their father. Sarra hung behind, staring at the vast walls and lawns of the university as they walked. Excitement built in her chest as they mounted the steps to the front of the school, and walked through the massive white doors that led to the marble and stone breezeway. Tapestries lined the walls, depicting scenes of mages and healers, some fighting, some making great things. In the middle of the tapestries were carved names, and Sarra was a little astonished to see her father's name.

"I donated money for a research library," he explained as they passed.

"It's called the Salmalin library," Rikash said. "So we get first priority on all books."

"We do?"

Rikash laughed. "No! Gods, Sarra, you will fall for anything."

Numair sighed, and stopped. "Rikash, don't antagonize your sister! She is in a very fragile state!"

"Sorry," he laughed, and Sarra cut him another look, her anger flaring. A potted plant in the corner of the room nodded its limbs in an unseen breeze.

They mounted the stairs directly in front of them, and Sarra had to concentrate on not slipping on the slick white marble. The stairs twisted up as they went, and when Sarra thought she might just fall over with dizziness, they reached the top. Numair led then down a hall filled with many doors, and at the end was a very large one.

"Now," their father said, placing a hand on the door, "I pulled a lot of strings with Chancellor Dorsat to get you here, Sarra, so please be as respective and charming as you possibly can. And that goes double for you, Rikash, with all the trouble you caused last semester."

"That was Colton's fault!" he whispered heatedly, but Numair shook his head for Rikash to quiet. Sarra chuckled under her breath – she remembered the story of Colton and Rikash trying to taint their much hated biology professor's water with a potion of their own creation, one that would temporally make him speak backwards. Too bad the professor had caught it beforehand – Sarra would have loved to see Rikash expelled for a few days.

Numair opened the heavy door, and they all filed in. "Well, if it isn't my old friend Numair!" said the chancellor, standing as they came in. The room was dark, like a cave, and filled with books and scrolls. _Much like Da's office_, Sarra thought. Her father shook hands with the man, who was a bit younger than Numair but had wrinkles gathered around his eyes and grey streaks in his brown hair.

"Thank you so much for granting Sarralyn this chance. You will not be let down. She is an excellent girl, and is very intelligent."

"Not too intelligent for her own good, I hope," Dorsat said, glancing over at Rikash. Then he smiled warmly at Sarra, and reached out to shake her hand as well. "Numair, you should be very happy – she is as striking as her mother, and hardly looks a thing like you!"

Numair smiled wistfully at the mention of his wife. "Well, I'm afraid Rikash here got all my traits, including the mischievous ones." Rikash scowled beside him.

"Oh, you certainly couldn't have been mischievous in your day!"

"Oh, believe me, my friends and I were the worst Carthak had ever seen." Numair sighed. "Oh, to be young again," he said distantly, and ruffed Rikash's curls. Rikash scowled deeper. "But we're not here to relive my past, unfortunately – I wanted your own opinion in the matter of where Sarra should start, lesson wise, with her studies."

"Of course! What are her capabilities?"

"Well, there lies the problem. Her Gift is a bit tangled up with her wild magic, and it is very hard for me to tell. I have worked with her on levitating things – she seems to do that fairly easily – but that's about all we tried, right, Sarra?"

"We tried to turn those roses," she reminded him.

"Yes, yes, a very simple color spell," he explained to the chancellor, remembering. "She did well with that – other than coloring one half of my study. Which is were I think her problem lies – in control of her magic."

Dorsat nodded, and was quiet for a while, thinking. Finally, he asked, "Did you ever test her for the Gift?"

Numair smiled, a little pained, and said, "Daine is very funny about that, and since she never showed any signs, I never did."

"Have you ever heard of this before, being the expert on wild magic?"

Numair shook his head. "But you must remember – Sarra is the first Wildmage of her kind."

The chancellor's eyebrows came together. "How so?"

"She can shape shift as well, and her powers with animals are much more acute than her mother's, yet the strength of their power is the same."

"Shape shift?" Dorsat asked, looking at Sarra wildly. She sighed inwardly and, lifting up her hand, turned it into that of an old woman's, bony and wrinkled, with age spots. She then turned it into the shape of a paw, then back to her own hand.

"I can do it with every part of my body," she said, almost a little sadly.

"Even sex shift?"

She nodded. "But I don't like to."

"Well, Numair, she is certainly a very special girl!" Numair beamed. Dorsat turned to Sarra. "I will have a schedule of classes made up for you this evening, and it will be delivered to your room. I'm sure your brother will help you get settled in this evening – dinner starts at seven sharp. A maid will show you to your rooms. And if you are to have any problems, don't hesitate to pay me a visit!"

They all rose, and said their goodbyes to the chancellor. Then the Salmalins went into the hall, where there was already a maid waiting patiently.

Numair gave Sarra one of his massive hugs. "I'm going to miss having my bright young girl around," he said, releasing her and holding her by the shoulders. "But I know my loss is your gain. Make me proud, my sweetling!" He kissed her forehead, and moved onto Rikash, who got the same hug. Her brother groaned and complained. "And I'll have no more trouble out of you, boy. Remember who is paying for your schooling, and who could easily bring you back to Chorus so you can be my personal assistant!" Rikash made a face, and Numair kissed his cheek. He gave Sarra another, bigger hug, and then left them in the hall, the maid to their right.

"Well," Rikash said, putting his hands in his pockets. "I'll see you around." Then he was off, down the hall and around the curve of stairs.

The maid smiled warmly at Sarra. "If you would follow me?" she said politely, and they started down the hall as well. The maid kept quiet as they walked, giving Sarra time to gather in the university. Instead of taking the stairs, they went to the end of the hall, and walked across a breezeway that was all glass, and suspended over the courtyard. Students walked under them, some in groups, some holding hands, some alone. They reached another hall, and went straight down it, then turned to the right. Sarra became dizzy trying to remember the way, and just concentrated on the halls; the pieces of paper announcing a lecture or experiment, the portraits and tapestries of serene picture, the students who she passed, whom never gave her a passing glance.

Finally, they reached a wing that was very different from the others; it was lined with doors, and the people who lined the halls were mostly girls. The maid walked to a room that, too Sarra's surprise, had a removable plaque with her name on it. She gave Sarra the key she had used to unlock the door, and let Sarra turn the knob.

Her room was much smaller than the one she had in Chorus, and was nothing compared to the size of the bedroom at the Tower, where she spent most of her summers with her parents. It fit a small bed, a desk, and a chest of drawers comfortably, but there was scarcely room for anything else. On top of the bed was the white robe she was to wear over her clothes. She noticed her trunk, which she had sent a few days before she had left, where there, in the corner, the lock unturned.

"There are fresh sheets on the bed, and fresh linens in your drawers. You will share a washroom with your neighbor." She pointed to the left of the room, to a door with a lock on it. "Laundry is taken once a week; bring it to the launderer down stairs. Breakfast is until nine every morning; lunch is at mid-day; dinner promptly at seven. No men on the women's side after nine. If you need anything else, don't be afraid to ask."

"Um – thank you," Sarra managed, feeling a bit overwhelmed. The maid nodded and left.

The first thing she did was pull her quilt from her trunk and spread it on her bed. She had owned it ever since she was little – it had been a gift from her father to her mother, and she had adopted it as her own. It was blue, with horses, songbirds, squirrels, and other various animals threaded in gold on it. It looked a bit odd in the plain, humble room, but Sarra just sighed and pulled out various other items – a glass horse from her father, and book of poetry from her Uncle Lindhall, a small clock her grandfather had made for her which, made from the god's magic, never needed to be reset or have the sun shine upon it. It had two hands, one which told the minute and one the hour. It was carved with many animal gods, and chirped like a songbird at midnight and noon.

She finally sat on her bed when she was finished, and stared out the little window that opened above a courtyard. Suddenly, like a panic, she longed to hear her father's voice, joking or in deep conversation, in the other room. She wanted to open the door and see her mother surrounded by animals, or laughing with her father. A tiny voice reminded her Rikash was here, somewhere, but another voice fought back that that wasn't enough. Rikash had been gone for four years now, and he would bring no homely comfort. She felt a tear in her eye, thinking about her and her father's last embrace, and how she wished she would had hugged him longer.

_No!_ she told herself sternly. _This is my new life now. This is my time._ With a sudden impulse, she rose, grabbing her cloak, and strode out the door.

The halls were filled with girls, most her age, some younger. They stood around doors, chatting and laughing, and looking at her as she went by. She walked to the end of the long hall, to a staircase, which she went down. The bottom of it led to another hall of rooms, and a door behind her that opened into a courtyard. She went into the courtyard, shrugging on her cloak and slipping on a pair of gloves. It was cold, but snow was only gathered in the cool corners of the walled area. There were two large planters, cased in bricks, where two fruitless pear trees grew, their limbs looking like long bare arms that stretched for the sky. There were planters for flowers, as well, though none dared grow in this weather. There were bare rose bushes against the wall, and they had white quilts wrapped around them, to keep the frost from damaging their spring buds.

Sarra realized, as the door shut, that there was someone in the courtyard, a man. He was leaning against one of the planters, his back to her. He seemed to be reading something. Sarra tired to be quiet, and went to sit on the other planter. But there was hardly quiet around Sarra Salmalin – suddenly dozens of winter birds flocked to her, calling out in their fluting voices, making Sarra laugh.

"Easy," she whispered to them. "We must respect others in this courtyard." The birds, though, were too excited over her appearance, and wouldn't stop their squawking. The man at the other planter turned in annoyance.

Sarra was about to apologize, but she stopped, seeing the man's face soften. Then he spoke her name, so easy and homely, her cold limbs became warm again. "Sarra?"

The man stood, and walked over to her. She stood as well, and the birds fluttered off, promising to come back. The man took her hands easily in his, like they belonged there.

"Sarra, it can't be you! I heard you were coming, but I didn't think so soon and – look at you! You are so beautiful!"

Colton smiled down at her, standing a good four inches over her head. His blue eyes were as beautiful as she remembered, and his hair still a soft blond. His skin was darker, though, and heavily freckled, and his voice was much deeper – so deep Sarra could hear it in her own chest. His hands squeezed hers.

She laughed, suddenly embarrassed. "You look quiet a bit different, too. You're a grown man!"

He shrugged, and let go of her hands. "Is it true you have the Gift now as well?"

"So it seems."

They stood a moment in the silent awkwardness, Sarra pulling her gloves up tighter around her wrists. She noticed that he wore the same deep blue cloak her brother owned. It flowed around his tall, thin frame, opened so Sarra could see the black breeches and white shirt he bore underneath. She cleared her throat uncomfortably.

"I'm assuming that Rikash has shown you around," Colton finally said, breaking the silence. Sarra laughed.

"He was gone the moment Da left us! I have no idea where I am going in this school."

Colton's eyebrows rose. "Your father was here? Ah, I'm sorry I missed him. I really wanted to ask him some things." He regarded the ground with a harsh look, then sighed wistfully as a loud bell tolled in the distance. "Well, I guess I should show you the dining hall, if Rikash has deserted you." He made the gesture for her to walk abreast with him, and they went back into the hall, the warm air instantly melting their faces.

"How goes your studies?" she asked as she followed him, trying to remember the different halls he glided her through.

"Well. I hope to go to Carthak in another two years."

Sarra came to a halt, and Colton did a double take to make sure she had not fallen down.

"Sarra?" he asked.

"Why would you go to Carthak?"

He seemed instantly alarmed, and several passing students were staring at them. He took her forearm and pulled her on, explaining simply, "To get my black robe."

"But . . . there cannot be two black robes."

"Who says?" he asked lightly.

"No, no, that's not what I mean." Sarra sighed, looking down at the dark tiles. "I mean, they will not present a black robe to two mages at the same time."

"What are you getting at?" Colton's voice wasn't so light anymore.

"Colt, if you and Rikash try to get your black robe at the same time, you'll have to fight for it!"

At that remark, Colton straightened. "I am older than Rikash, so I, hopefully, will receive mine first. And I realize we are on the same level," he continued, when Sarra opened her mouth, "but I hope to soon surpass him. Hopefully, I will have my green robe before the summer."

Sarra bit her lip as they entered the large dining hall. She did not like the thought of her brother and Colton dueling over a robe, merely for the fact that Rikash would easily beat Colton. Now that she had the Gift, she could sense the full strength of her brother's power, which was enough to rival her father's fairly easily. Compared to what she felt coming from Colton, she was very apprehensive.

The dining hall was a high ceilinged room with four rows of long wooden tables. There was a serving line, much like the one in Chorus, which the students stood in, laughing and talking as they waited their turn.

Colton took Sarra to the line, and they stood in another silence as they waited, Sarra deep in thought. Colton cleared his throat. "I'm going to sit the line out," he said. "You're welcome to join me."

"No, no," she said, taking off her cloak and putting in over her arm. "I'll just wait." As Colton disappeared, she felt a tap on the shoulder. To her surprise, it was Rikash, his robe over his clothes as well, his bright grey eyes smiling.

"Can't do much to separate those two. I'm surprised she hasn't been hanging off his mouth all day."

"What?" Sarra asked, her voice harsher than she intended. Rikash pointed to the table Colton had gone to. He was sitting by a golden haired girl in an equally golden robe, with his hand on her back. To Sarra's absolute disgust, he gripped her chin and kissed her hard on the mouth for several minutes.

Sarra couldn't take her eyes off them. It was like watching a battle before her eyes, a battle between her heart and this evil girl, and the girl had just drew a sword straight through her beating heart.

"Who – who is that?"

"Davon. Colt's betrothed."


	3. Chapter 3

"Betrothed?" Sarra asked, her voice hardly audible.

"Well, he asked her, and she said yes." Rikash took a plate as they neared the front of the line. "But there is a rumor her father has arranged a marriage with a knight, and that she will have to leave soon. That's why they are getting married in the summer."

"Without their parents' consent?" Sarra took a plate as well, but only filled it with a roll and a bit of butter. She wasn't very hungry anymore.

"I guess so."

Sarra sighed, and followed Rikash to the end of the line, where he paid for both their meals. "Where are we going to sit?" she asked, eyeing Colton's back.

"With Colt, I guess. That's where I always sit." They walked up to the table, and Rikash sat across from Colton. Sarra sat on the other side of him, across from Davon.

"Oh," Colton said, reaching to take Davon's hand. "Let me introduce you to my favorite childhood companion, Sarralyn Salmalin."

Davon smiled, buttering her roll, then dropped it. Then she put her head on Colton's shoulder and sighed audibly. "I am so tired, Colton, and already full. Will you walk me to my room?"

"Of course." Colton rose, and helped her to her feet. She gave him a kiss, and sent Sarra a look of warning as they left.

"Whoa," Rikash said. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing!" Sarra almost yelled, completely innocent. She pushed away her food. "I'm not very hungry, and I think I need to get a good night's sleep before classes in the morning."

Rikash shrugged and took her food. She sighed and pushed away from the table, then walked into the hall. Sarra had a good sense of direction, but got turned around in the halls once, and ended up at the end of a hallway on the bottom floor. All the doors were shut except the one on the end, which had a little light peeking through the crack of the door. Sarra looked around the empty hall and decided to venture to the open door, which she knocked on softly. There was a creak of a bed, then the door swung open to reveal a girl in a white wool gown with black hair, tanned skin, and black eyes.

"Hello," Sarra said, almost apologetically. "I'm new and I think I lost my way to my room."

The girl smiled, and came out of her room. "What is your room number?"

Sarra bit her lip. "Five – something."

The girl nodded, and then said, "Hold on one second." She disappeared into her room, and then returned with a blue velvet cloak, which she tied with a sash around her waist. "I'll show you. I need to get out of my room."

She led Sarra down the hall and to the right, then up a staircase. Sarra wondered why the girl, who looked about her age, was alone in her room during mealtime, but was too shy to ask.

"So when did you come here?" the girl asked as they walked. Sarra was jarred from her thoughts.

"Today, actually. This is my first semester here." Sarra paused awkwardly, then asked the girl's name.

"Moriah," she said, smiling over at Daine with white teeth. "What is yours?"

"I'm Sarralyn, but most everyone just calls me Sarra."

"Oh. Then it's nice to meet you, Sarra. Are you from Carthak?"

"No, from Chorus."

"Oh." Moriah shook her head. "Sorry, you just look like it."

Sarra remembered her dark hair and easily tanned skin. "My father is from the south," she explained. "Is that where you are from?"

Moriah looked a bit panicked, but answered, "Yes," very politely.

"I went once, when I was a baby," Sarra continued, trying to keep a conversation going. "All I remember were the crocodiles and the heat. Oh, and my brother crying from colic the whole time." Sarra rolled her eyes.

"You have a brother?" Moriah asked hopefully. "I have brothers too!"

Sarra smiled. "Don't you just despise them? All my brother does is torment me!"

Moriah laughed. "Yes! Well, not all my brothers, but most of them. I am happy to be away for a while, but I miss them."

Sarra shook her head. "I could never miss my brother very much. And coming here only means I have to see him every day!"

"Oh? Who is your brother?"

"Rikash Salmalin. Have you heard of him?" Sarra asked. They had reached the top of a staircase, and were now on the hall Sarra recognized as her own.

Moriah's eyes bugged. "You are Sarra Salmalin?" she asked in awe. Sarra inwardly sighed. She didn't want to lose the only friend she had made all day.

"Yes, that would be me."

Moriah bit her lip a little, and then smiled. "I'm sorry. I just never expected you to look so, so – normal."

"What would you think I would look like?" Sarra asked, not unpleasantly. She was interested in what the people in the university thought of her.

"Oh, I don't know. Like some wild beast, or maybe with skin that turned different colors."

Sarra laughed. "Well, I can do all that, but not subconsciously. Except for my eyes, that is." She pointed to them – one brown, one blue. "They change shades, sometimes, according to my mood."

"Really?" the girl asked, fascinated. Sarra nodded, and Moriah sighed. "I wish I had your power."

Sarra shook her head as they neared her room. "You really don't. It's not all it seems."

Moriah shrugged. "Well, I guess I'll see you later. Maybe we will have some classes together."

Sarra smiled. "Hopefully so!"

* * *

Rikash was busy eating when someone sat down across from him. He sighed and looked into the very blue eyes of a girl. "Hello, Rikash. Remember me?"

"Miriam?" he asked, and smiled. "You certainly look beautiful this evening. Did you have a good break?"

She shrugged and nodded. Rikash took in her perfect nose and red lips and pushed his leg up against hers under the table. "What about you, Rikash? How was Chorus?"

"Oh, Chorus is Chorus, as always. But there isn't a girl that would rival your beauty, sweet."

She laughed, and pushed his leg away. "Oh, stop it! I'll bet you have told that to a hundred other girls!"

He shook his curly head. "Nonsense, my dear. You're absolutely beautiful."

She laughed, and waved her hand at him. Rikash smiled and took her slender hand in his. "Would you like to join me somewhere a little more private?" he asked her with a smile. Miriam smiled and nodded.

* * *

Sarra collapsed onto her bed and curled into a ball. She had held herself together the entire walk back from the cafeteria, but now she couldn't contain herself. She heaved a sob, and buried her head in her arm. She could only imagine his hand on her back, on her body – _oh, Goddess, what were they doing now?_

She had never felt so low in her life. She wanted to be in Chorus, at the tower, with familiar people and surrounds. She didn't want to be with new people – new people were breaking her heart.

She sat up, and looked at her room. It meant nothing to her, and even though it was filled with her most cherished possessions, it felt empty. So, so empty.

"Sarra," she told herself sternly. "No. No, no, no!" She couldn't let this happen. She wasn't going back home. She was a big girl – she didn't need her father or mother or even her brother. She took in a deep, shaky breath and looked into the mirror across from her bed.

She would stay. And she would do everything to get Colton back.

Thank you, Jay-Z. You helped me write this chapter

And thank you, reviews. I read your reviews again and was like . . . aww : ) I love yall.

Oh and Merry Christmas! John 3:16 : )


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